


secrets revealed

by valiantlybold



Series: wolf in lark's clothing [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Blood Drinking, Established Relationship, Introspection, M/M, Mob Boss Jaskier, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Oral Sex, Polyamorous relationship, Polyamory, Rimming, Supernatural Elements, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22971283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valiantlybold/pseuds/valiantlybold
Summary: The secret finally comes out.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert
Series: wolf in lark's clothing [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640455
Comments: 10
Kudos: 374





	secrets revealed

**Author's Note:**

> Set just after _patience rewarded,_ as well as the day after.

Jaskier stares blankly at his laptop.

Eskel and Lambert were right. They need to tell Geralt the truth.

They’ve been together for some months now, and Geralt appears to be happy with the relationship, just like Jaskier, Eskel, and Lambert are.

They had decided on this, before inviting Geralt in. They had discussed it at length and considered their options, and they decided that this was the best course of action.

It had been decided that they wouldn’t tell Geralt at the start; they would hold off for a while, and see how the relationship developed, and if it went well, if Geralt fit into the relationship well, then they would tell him the truth.

And now, they have come to that stage.

It is time to tell Geralt the truth.

But how is Jaskier supposed to do that?

It’s a big secret. A _huge_ secret.

Telling Geralt will be like ringing a bell; once the bell has rung, it can’t be _un-rung._ Once he knows, he can’t _un-know._

If they do this, there’s no going back. Geralt will have to live with it for the rest of his life. Knowing the truth might make him leave; might make him break things of between them all. But even if he leaves, he’ll still know. He’ll still have to live with it.

It’s life-changing.

It will completely change his world.

Can Jaskier do that to him?

But if he doesn’t, can they really continue lying?

For these months, he’s _hated_ lying. He’s hated keeping the truth from Geralt. He’s hated the fact that they have been unable to truly be themselves with Geralt.

But they wanted to make sure that Geralt was real, that was fully into this, that he wouldn’t run for the hills at the first sign of trouble or that he was just treating this as some passing fancy. They just had to make sure it was as serious for him, as it was the rest for them.

Now they know he’s real. He’s serious.

So how can they hide this from him for any longer?

“Hey. You okay?”

Jaskier blinks.

His laptop has gone dark. The sky outside the windows has gone dark too. God, how long has he been sitting here?

Eskel stands next to him, comfy in a pair of soft sweatpants.

“Yeah,” Jaskier says. “Um, how is he?”

“Lambert’s with him. He’s a better cuddler than me. You know how I get if I don’t get my coffee.”

A smile tugs at Jaskier’s lips. He reaches out and strokes his fingers down Eskel’s arm to take his hand, smiling wider at how cold his skin is.

“So what are you working on?” Eskel asks then.

That makes Jaskier’s smile fall. “Not really working, I guess. Just…thinking.”

“About what?”

The man sits on the edge of the desk next to Jaskier, offering him a soft smile and an attentive ear.

“I’m worried. About telling him. I’m afraid of how he’ll take it.”

“Me too. But I trust him. He’ll be alright.”

Jaskier swallows. “What if he leaves?”

Eskel lets out a deep breath. “He won’t. I know he won’t.”

Jaskier looks up at him. “How can you know?”

The other man smiles. “Because I know what he looks like when he’s in love.”

Jaskier’s eyes go wide. _In love?_ He’s in love with them?

Eskel chuckles at his expression. “C’mon. Let’s get you to bed. I’m sure Geralt will be happy to see you.”

He takes Jaskier’s hand and pulls him up to his feet.

Jaskier follows him to the bedroom. They crawl into bed with Lambert and Geralt.

It feels right to be there, with all his boys.

*

Jaskier had planned to wait a few days. Take some time to just...figure out how to tell Geralt. How to break the ‘news’ as gently as possible.

But Geralt, Jaskier has learned, can be rather uncooperative when he chooses to be.

And he brings up the issue the very next day, while they’re lounging on the couch and Geralt is still a little clingy and needy from the day before.

“What were you talking about yesterday?”

He lays with his head on a pillow in Eskel’s lap. Jaskier sits next to Eskel, fingers carding through Geralt’s long hair. Lambert is deeply occupied with his bag of chips, sitting on the floor between Eskel’s feet.

“What do you mean, darling?” Jaskier asks.

“Yesterday. After you put me to bed,” Geralt says. “I heard you talking. You were talking about telling me something.”

“Oh.”

“So, what is it?”

“I-…”

Jaskier is, as is very rare for him, lost for words.

“Um. It’s…hard to explain.”

“Well. Try.”

Eskel clears his throat. “Maybe we should all…sit down and talk about this properly? Might be good if Lam and I help explain things.”

“Hm.”

So they move to the dining room. Geralt and Eskel sit on one side, and the other two sit opposite them.

“So, Geralt,” Eskel starts. “You remember when I got this scar?”

He points to the gnarled scar that covers almost his entire left cheek.

“Yes,” Geralt says. “You got attacked by some wild dog, right?”

Eskel takes a deep breath. “That’s what I _told_ you.”

“Told me? You mean, that’s not what happened?”

Lambert clears his throat. “No. It’s… It was me.”

Geralt’s brows furrow. “What?”

“I’m…a werewolf.”

_“What?”_

Geralt stares at him. Then his eyes go to Jaskier, then to Eskel. And he can obviously read on their faces that this is not a joke.

_“Excuse me?”_

“I’m a werewolf,” Lambert repeats. “And it was just after I was turned. My first full moon. I went through the change, and…I lost control. I went on the run and I guess I was trying to hunt, or something like that. Eskel just…happened to be the first person I ran into.”

Geralt is quiet. He stares, and he listens.

Lambert swallows dryly. “I… I almost killed him. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t in control of myself. But I realized what I was doing, I saw all the blood and heard him screaming, and I-… I fought back. Got control again, pushed it down. A-And I called Jaskier, and he got Eskel the help he needed.”

Geralt turns to Eskel, then.

The brunette nods. “He brought a vampire to see me. She bit me and turned me. And…I healed. Got a few scars, still. Don’t mind them much, though. Nothing to be done about it, I suppose, so why bother be upset?”

Geralt blinks.

“So yeah. I’m a vampire.”

And realizing that Jaskier must be a part of things too, Geralt looks to Jaskier with big eyes.

“Me? I’m a doppler. Like a doppelgänger?” Jaskier tells him. “A shapeshifter, basically. I can change into any person I see, and get all their thoughts and memories. So if I turned into you, I’d remember your whole life as if it were my own. And I’d be able to think in the same way that you do. I’ve been using this face for a while now. I quite like it, I suppose. Grown attached, maybe. But I change sometimes, for business. It’s a good way to keep the police off my back. Can’t arrest me if they don’t know what face I’m wearing.”

Geralt, for his part, seems lost for words as well.

“A-and… Are there more?” he asks, though it takes him nearly a minute of silence to make the words come out.

Jaskier nods. “Yes. More dopplers, more vampires, more werewolves, and lots of other sorts. We just…stay hidden. It’s better that way. Humans…. Well, you tend to be a violent lot. We all rather avoid mass genocides of our species. We keep ourselves secret.”

Geralt is... He can’t believe what he’s hearing.

Vampires, werewolves, dopplers?

It’s just- How can all those things, _and more,_ exist? Without anyone knowing about them?

Then again, Eskel’s been a vampire _for years_ now! He’s Geralt’s oldest and closest friend, and Geralt _still_ had no idea.

Who knows how many others he’s met without knowing?

This is...a lot.

He gets up from his seat at the table.

He walks away.

He hears Jaskier and Lambert call after him, chairs scraping across the floor as they stand. But then Eskel says something to them that makes them stop.

Geralt puts on his shoes and jacket by the elevator and grabs his keys, then goes down to the garage. He hops in his car and leaves.

*

“Knew I’d find ya here.”

Geralt looks around.

He sits in the park at the end of Rivia Street, where he grew up. Eskel stands before him.

Guess he shouldn’t be surprised. This was always where Geralt went; whether alone or with Eskel. There wasn’t much else to do on Rivia Street in those days, and Lord knows he’d catch hell from his mother if he strayed off the street for anything other than school. The park was just where they ended up on most days.

Even after Geralt moved away, he’d come here when he needed a break. Eskel knows that. He’s come looking for Geralt a million times and found him right here.

Geralt slides over to the right. Eskel takes the invitation, and sits down on the bench.

Then they sit there. Quiet.

Eskel knows not to say anything. He knows to let Geralt take his time; if he wants to talk, he’ll talk. If he doesn’t want to talk, then Eskel will simply be there for him by keeping him company, reminding him that he isn’t alone. Geralt appreciates that about Eskel. He just _knows_ what Geralt needs. Sometimes better than Geralt himself knows.

“So… Do you drink blood?”

Eskel chuckles at the question. “Yeah. I do. Not a lot. Just enough to survive. From Lambert or Jaskier. I drink a lot of coffee too. Helps keep me warm to the touch. And it makes me feel less…thirsty.”

“Hm. And Lambert. He… On full moons, he…?”

“Shifts? He did at first. But it’s been a few years now and he’s learned to control it. But it’s why he sleeps alone now and then, y’know? He says it’s easier to control if he’s alone. If he doesn’t have to think about other people, and stuff.”

“Hm.”

Makes sense, Geralt figures. He can only guess but if he did, he’d guess it’s like having a feral animal trapped in his head. If it were him, he’d probably want to be alone now and then, if the animal was close to the surface. He’d keep away from the people he cares about too, just to make sure he doesn’t hurt them without meaning to.

It makes him wonder what it’s like in Lambert’s head; fighting that feral animal all the time. He can’t say he wants to find out.

And what about Jaskier? _Dopplers._ If they can shapeshift, what do they _actually_ look like? What do their own faces look like, their real faces?

“What’s- Um. What’s Jaskier look like? Really? His real face.”

Eskel hums as he thinks it over. “He’s got these…pointy ears. And his eyes are sort of white. But other than that, he looks pretty human, actually. Y’know, if it weren’t for the blue skin.”

“Huh.”

Honestly? Not what he was expecting. Suppose he was expecting something worse; something a little more drastic.

Not that blue skin isn’t _drastic,_ but even _more_ than that.

He almost expected him to not look remotely human at all. Suppose it’s a little comforting to know that it _isn’t_ more drastic.

Geralt thinks it would be harder to process things if he found out Jaskier wasn’t even _humanoid,_ or whatever it’s called. It’d be…weirder. It’s already pretty weird to begin with, but that would just be… Fuck, Geralt doesn’t want to think too hard on it.

He was upset about all of this, at first. He was confused and angry and worried and scared.

It was all just completely _mind-breaking._

Monsters exist. Vampires and werewolves and shapeshifters, and Lord knows what else.

But then after sitting here for a while, thinking about it…. They’ve always existed. They’ve always been around. Geralt just didn’t know about them. And now he does. That’s the only thing that’s changed in the world. It’s still the same shithole as it always was, Geralt just knows a little more about it now.

“How do you feel about all this?”

“ It’s a lot to take in. But I guess… I guess it doesn’t change anything, really. You’re still…Eskel. He’s still Jaskier. Lambert’s still Lambert. I’ve just learned something new about you. But it’s- It was the implications of it all, I think. At first.”

“You mean, what it means for the world as a whole.”

“Yeah. But… Just like with all of you, nothing’s changed from how it was yesterday. I’m just…seeing the whole picture now. Everything’s still the same as it’s always been.”

Nothing has changed. The world keeps spinning.

He wonders how many of them there are in the world. People like Eskel and Lambert and Jaskier. How many vampires are there? How many werewolves and dopplers, and what other kinds of creatures are there and how much of the world is occupied by them? How many humans are there _really?_ They say seven billion, right? But how many of those seven billion _aren’t_ actually humans?

“Can I see?”

“See what?”

“When you…go all _vampire,_ I guess. Assuming that’s something that you do, I suppose.”

Eskel snorts. “Sure. But not here. Best not to do it in the open. How about we go back home? Jaskier and Lambert are really worried.”

Hm. Yes, Geralt did leave in a bad way. He’d be worried too, if their places were reversed.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

*

Jaskier is pacing around the living room as Geralt and Eskel return. He stops short when he sees them, though, and Lambert stands up from his seat on the couch.

“Geralt,” Jaskier says, his voice made soft by insecurity. “I’m glad you’re alright. We- We were worried.”

Geralt nods. “It’s...a lot to take in.”

“Believe me, I reacted a lot worse,” Lambert says, an awkward chuckle leaving him at the tentative attempt at lightening the heavy atmosphere. “Almost went screamin’ for the hills.”

“I can see why,” Geralt admits. “But…I’m okay. I think.”

“He wants to see,” Eskel explains. “What we are. What we really are.”

 _“Oh,”_ Jaskier lets out.

He clears his throat.

“Well. Perhaps I should start?” he suggests then. “But you should probably sit down.”

Geralt shuffles around the couch and sits down. All three of them stand before him.

Jaskier goes first, like he said.

His pale skin begins to ripple. His hair sinks away. His body begins to change in shape under his clothes. He becomes shorter and lankier; his head falls bald, and his skin turns as blue as the sky outside the windows. His ears grow pointed, his eyes turn white and murky, and he smiles with sharp, yellow teeth.

It’s…unsettling.

He doesn’t look at all like the Jaskier Geralt has come to know. But this _is_ Jaskier, the real Jaskier. This is his real face.

And as long as it’s the same old Jaskier beneath it, Geralt is sure that what face he has doesn’t matter that much.

“Well. At least he isn’t screaming his head off yet,” Jaskier quips, he too attempting to break the tension.

His voice is low and raspy when he talks; it doesn’t sound like what Jaskier is supposed to sound like. It sounds wrong. Geralt knows it’s still Jaskier, but he can’t match this voice and this face with the idea of Jaskier.

He knows it’s Jaskier. He does.

He just…needs to get used to it. He just needs a minute to wrap his head around it.

“You’re…”

“Yeah?”

“Blue.”

The doppler chuckles. “Indeed I am.”

“Okay. That’s… Okay.”

“Eskel, show me a picture of my face, please,” Jaskier says, and Eskel quickly hands him his phone. “I prefer not to stay like this for too long.”

One look at the phone, and the process goes backwards. Jaskier’s body fills back out to be as it was before; his hair grows out, his skin blooms pink, and his eyes go blue. In only a few moments, he looks just like before.

“Should I go next?” Lambert says, then.

Jaskier steps aside.

Geralt takes a deep breath.

“Fair warning, I can’t do a full-body shift unless it’s a full moon, so… Best I can give ya is a half-shift.”

Geralt nods. He swallows dryly and watches.

Lambert closes his eyes.

His skin ripples, just like Jaskier’s had.

His ears elongate and go pointed, his brow becomes more pronounced and his nose widens and flattens to resemble the snout of a wolf; Geralt’s heart skips a beat when he sees how long and sharp-looking Lambert’s teeth become. When he opens his eyes, they shine bright red. On his hands, his nails turn into vicious claws. An animalistic growl vibrates through the air.

Geralt, unwillingly, rears back in his seat.

He doesn’t mean to be afraid, but…it’s hard _not_ to be a little afraid. Everything in him scrams at him to run for his fucking life, despite his rational mind knowing that Lambert wouldn’t hurt him.

Beside Lambert, Eskel shuts his eyes and clenches his fists.

Lambert seems to notice, and shifts himself again, becoming his human self once more.

“You alright?” the wolf asks as he looks to Eskel.

The vampire nods. “Yes. But you know how it is. Vampires and werewolves, natural enemies…”

Lambert hums. “Can’t say you’re wrong on that. Your turn.”

Lambert steps aside too, joining Jaskier.

Geralt takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself again.

_Eskel won’t hurt him, Lambert won’t hurt him, Jaskier won’t hurt him. He knows that. He knows they won’t hurt him._

He watches Eskel.

Of them all, Eskel’s transformation is the least dramatic.

The whites of his eyes go red, as though all the blood-vessels there had burst all at once. His irises almost _glow_ yellow, resembling Geralt’s own _(very human)_ eyes. Below his eyes, the veins bulge and Geralt can almost _see_ blood rushing through them. Just like Lambert, Eskel’s teeth grow long and sharp, though Eskel’s grow more vicious still.

While Lambert’s teeth are made to rip flesh from bone, Eskel’s are made to puncture delicate skin and dig through meat to find blood.

Geralt swallows.

As fast as it came, it goes away and Eskel looks as human as the next guy.

“And that’s about it,” Eskel says with a shrug.

“How are you?” Jaskier asks from the other end of the couch.

Geralt blinks. “I’m…okay. I think. It’s just…a lot to take in. “So you really drink blood?” he asks, promptly changing the subject as his eyes focus on Eskel again.

The vampire nods. “Yeah. But not much, like I said. Just enough to get by, keep my strength up. Lambert and Jaskier are willing donors.”

“Sure are,” Lambert agrees with a smirk, drawing Geralt’s eye. “And I’m not sayin’ you should do it _now,_ but seriously, consider givin’ it a shot. Lettin’ him bite ya, I mean. It’s pretty damn amazing.”

Jaskier whistles, and lets out a chuckle. “Oh, boy, yeah, it really is.”

Geralt’s brows draw together in confusion. He turns to Eskel again for an explanation.

“Right. Um. Way my Sire explained it, she said we secrete a kinda aphrodisiac when we bite someone,” the vampire retells. “Lessens the pain of the bite, makes the person more…. _agreeing,_ I suppose. Helps speed up the coagulation process too, once we let go, so the bites heal rather fast too, even for a human.”

Geralt swallows.

He is…intrigued. Very… _curious._

It sounds-

It sounds interesting.

An aphrodisiac…

Jaskier and Lambert say it’s good. And it’s _Eskel._ Eskel wouldn’t hurt him. Geralt knows that.

And Geralt will probably agree to do it sooner or later anyway, so he might as well speed up the process.

“Do it now.”

“What?”

“Bite me now,” Geralt says blankly. “I want to try it.”

Eskel takes a deep breath. He walks over and sits down next to Geralt.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

There is a very serious look in his eyes. It tells Geralt that he isn’t messing about, he needs to know _for real._

But Geralt realizes then, that he is sure.

He cares about Eskel, wants Eskel to feel good and to feel good, he needs to eat. He just happens to eat blood instead of actual food. And if Geralt can help supply, then he will. Because he wants to help Eskel.

“I’m sure.”

Eskel watches him for another moment, clearly searching for any uncertainty in Geralt.

But when he finds none, he nods.

His hands are cold when he touches Geralt. He talks softly, and leads Geralt, moving him into a better position; makes Geralt lean back against the couch and get comfortable, moves his hair out of the way, tips his head back, runs his fingers over Geralt’s neck to find the best place to bit.

“Now, it is an aphrodisiac, so you may become… _aroused,”_ Eskel says, then. “Do you want us to help you take care of it, or should we leave it?”

“Take care of it, I suppose?”

Eskel nods. “Alright, then. Just relax and stay calm. Grab onto my arm. If you need me to stop, tap out. Easy as that.”

“Got it.”

Geralt lets his eyes fall closed once he has gotten a hold on Eskel’s arm. He keeps his breathing steady. Eskel leans in over him.

A mouth fits over his neck.

He hisses as there comes a sharp pain.

It’s like the prick of a needle, and passes just as quickly.

And then…

Then he starts feeling light-headed.

His whole body feels light and floaty. It feels like being drunk. The world spins around him, even with his eyes closed.

It feels like he’s smiling, but he can’t tell _why_ he’s smiling; all he knows is that he feels _amazing._

He tries to talk but all that comes out is a breathy moan, and fuck, that reminds him, he’s _so horny,_ he could _die_ for a fuck right now, God, his dick is rock hard.

He palms blindly at his own body, trying to find his dick, and when he find it, he remembers again that wow, he’s super horny and his dick is _way_ hard, and he pushes his hand into his sweatpants to wrap around his cock and fuck, that feels good.

A sharp pain in his neck, then hot breaths on his ear.

 _“Fuck,_ you taste amazing.”

That’s Eskel’s voice; _mh,_ right, Eskel’s got a nice voice, and it makes Geralt’s hair stand on end.

“Come on, darling, hands off.”

Someone tugs on his wrist and he lets out a whine of protest as his hand is pulled away from his cock. He wants to fight it, keep touching himself, but his body feels _so heavy._ His hand flops limply to the side, onto the cushions.

But then through the haze, he realizes someone is taking his sweats off.

His body almost jack-knifes when a hot, wet mouth wraps around his dick, but heavy hands hold him down, keep him from making any stupid moves.

 _Fuck, who’s mouth is that?_ He wants to look but lifting his head seems like the most difficult task in the world so he decides it’s not worth the effort. Whoever it is, they’re doing a bang-up job and he’s not about to question it.

“Sweet little human,” Eskel whispers to him, and his breath smells like hot metal. “You taste so good, makes me feel _alive_ again, makes my dead heart race again.”

Geralt can only moan in response.

The mouth sucks hard on his cock, and he feels even more light-headed. He’s fucking _floating_ on a cloud of bliss like he never has before.

Lights and shapes and colors dance behind his eyelids.

His body is moved for him, his legs are spread and held apart and he fucking wants to _cry_ when the mouth lets up off his cock, but that feeling goes away when it kisses lower, when it tongues at his rim, still just a little sensitive from yesterday; but that feeling disappears in the fog of this high, the high he’s on from Eskel’s mouth on his neck.

He’s so fuzzy; he can’t quite tell one sensation from the next, but he could swear there’s somehow still a mouth on his cock, even when it’s supposed to have continued on to his hole. Fuck it, who knows, maybe there’s a third mouth, he can’t fucking tell the difference, all he knows is that he feels incredible.

He feels like he’s _glowing_ with pleasure.

He’s on the best drug in the world and he never wants the high to end.

A soft, wet _something_ presses into his hole and it feels like his heart skips a beat.

He wrenches his eyes open.

Eskel looms over him, eyes messy with yellow and red, and there’s red running down his chin and staining his lips too. That’s Geralt, that’s Geralt’s blood and it’s on Eskel’s lips and it looks perfect there.

Jaskier moves beyond Eskel’s figure, and the motions match up with the incredible, blinding sensations on Geralt’s cock, fuck, Jaskier’s perfect little throat hugs his cock in all the right ways.

Then beyond him, he sees only the top of Lambert’s head, buried between Geralt’s thighs, oh, God, Lambert’s got a good tongue.

Eskel turns into a blur, moving too fast for Geralt to understand, then another prick of pain and _he’s flying above the clouds again._

God, he can touch the fucking stars. He’s flying through space and _he’s alive._ He’s just so fucking _alive,_ he can’t believe he’s lived before because _this_ is what it feels like to be truly alive.

He feels drunk; he’s never really done any drugs but if this is what it feels like to be high, he can see why people get addicted.

_He never wants it to end. Please, don’t ever let it end._


End file.
